


Tension In Suburbia

by CheyWriter321



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Emotional Hurt, Fatherhood, Other, Protective Dean Winchester, Season/Series 15 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23679022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheyWriter321/pseuds/CheyWriter321
Summary: Dean is deep in his grief after losing Jack and is not prepared for someone from their past re-emerging in the middle of the chaos. Will he make the right choice to save a life he treasures or is he going to let his pain steer the ship?
Kudos: 5





	1. Bunker Buster

**Author's Note:**

> Same prompt book (I think I'll stop putting this at some point, it's getting hella repetitive. And it's going to stay the same cause I'm typing all of these up first.)
> 
> Also, forgive any errors. I'm not really editing these, just typing up what I have. If I come across a story that really grabs me then I'll do better, I promise!
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Dean woke up to the muffled sounds of shouting. Sam's voice was easy to recognize even in his barely awake fog, but Cas was making himself heard which was rare. The angel rarely raised his voice to anyone except Dean. In the breaks between their words, there was another voice he didn't recognize. It sounded young and there was an instant of mad hope that it was Jack before he came back to reality. As always, Dean had to push down the dark well of pain that came when he thought about Jack. He missed the kid. He missed his kid.

Whatever was going on though, it was definitely heated.

Groaning, he dragged himself out of bed. Snatching a shirt and jeans off the floor, he got dressed and headed towards the voices. Yelling at the virginal hour of 7:30 AM was never a good sign.

“No!” he heard Sam shout, silencing Cas and the stranger as Dean reached the door to the war room. “He goes, now! That's it!”

Dean saw Sam's face shift from angry to desperate as he came into the room. Cas whirled around to look at him, but Dean had eyes only for the figure standing tense at the bottom of the library stairs.

He was tall, a little on the chubby side, with a head of thick black hair. He was young, maybe about nineteen or twenty. Broad shoulders coiled beneath a black hoodie and ripped jeans hung low across his hips.

But the eyes that looked at Dean were filled with tears that made them all too familiar. “Ben?” he whispered.

Silence thick as wool settled over the room. Those dark eyes, painfully like his mother's, were wild and frightened. A cornered animal who didn't know whether to run or play dead. The pain of that gaze was on par with being shot in the chest.

Time was frozen for a moment. Then Ben was moving, his boots pounding along the polished marble floor. His arms rose up as he got closer, Dean had a split-second to wonder if he was about to get punched before Ben crashed against him in a hug that drove the air from his lungs. He wrapped Ben in his arms as the kid burst into tears. Dean couldn't fight the small smile that curled his lips as he held this boy that had been his son. He regretted so many things about his life, but leaving Ben and Lisa behind was one of the worst.

He didn't know how it was possible that he was holding Ben in his arms, but for the moment he wasn't going to question it. The ache in his chest that had come when he watched light blaze from Jack's eyes in that graveyard didn't hurt quite as much when he had his hands on Ben. And nine long years of longing for this boy who might have been his had stopped at last.

It took about ten minutes for Ben to calm down, but he didn't let go right away. When he finally took a step back, Dean had to stop himself from pulling him back.

“How are you here?” Dean asked, smiling even though he could feel tears welling in his eyes. “My god, kid. Look how you've grown.”

Ben laughed. It sounded just like Lisa, only deeper. The cadence of it was something Dean would have recognized anywhere. “I don't really know,” Ben answered. The baritone of it was another shock. When Dean had left them, Ben's voice had only just begun to change. “I've always kind of remembered you, but it was hard. There were these fuzzy memories, but nothing concrete. Mom and I started calling you my imaginary friend.” He flicked a shy smile up at Dean. “You sort of became my unofficial guardian angel.”

Dean couldn't help but chuckle at that. Then he looked up at Case and Sam and felt the smile melt from his lips. Sam was staring at Ben like the kid was holding a bomb in his hands and Castiel's face had settled into an expression of rigid disapproval.

“How is this possible?” he asked Cas, resting a comforting hand on Ben's shoulder as the young man turned worried eyes towards their audience.

Cas shrugged. “It shouldn't be, Dean,” he answered. “I didn't block the memories of you from Lisa and Ben, I erased them. I removed you from their minds completely.”

“Which is what he should be doing again, right now,” Sam snapped. Dean frowned at his brother, his fingers tightening on Ben's shoulder.

“Why?” he asked, fixing hard eyes on Sam.

“Dean, you have to think about this,” Sam said quietly. “You can't bring him into what's happening. Before you came out here, he told us Lisa doesn't remember you at all and that he didn't tell her what he was doing. She's probably frantic. What are you going to say to her, huh? You just gonna walk into her fucking house and tell her that you guys used to date until you had an angel wipe her memory?”

“Don't be so dramatic,” Dean scoffed. “Ben's an adult, he can tell Lisa whatever he wants, including nothing at all. So Ben remembers me, that doesn't have to change anything.”

Sam's eyes were filled with pity as the latched onto Dean's. “You can't keep him, Dean,” he whispered. “You know that. You know that you can't. Chuck will kill him and Lisa both, there's no way you can keep him safe.”

Dean's mouth went dry and his heart lurched in his chest. Underneath all the joy and pain that surrounded Ben in Dean's mind, he knew Sam was right. And he hated his brother for it.

“Please,” Ben murmured. He stepped away from Dean, looking at Sam and Castiel with a pleading expression. “I don't know what's happening, and I don't know what to do. A week ago, I started seeing Dean in my head. Not like memories or flashbacks, but him as he is now, doing things. On the phone, making coffee, talking to the two of you. And then two days ago, I woke up out of a dead sleep and I knew where he was. It was like a map dropped into my head and I knew where to go. I don't know why.” He turned back to Dean, almost fearful. “I came because I don't know where else to go with this.”

The hunter let his eyes rove over Ben's face for a moment before giving him a single nod and turning back to his brother and the angel. “What could cause something like that?”

“It doesn't matter, Dean,” Sam snapped. “Cas needs to wipe his memories and get him away from here before Chuck writes another death scene. I know you love him, but he needs to get away from here!”

Anger sparked in Dean's chest and suddenly he was yelling. “I don't care!” he shouted, advancing on his brother with his fists clenched. “I don't care! I don't give a shit what Chuck might do!” Inside his mind was a whirlpool. Memories of Ben, of Jack, of times when he was happy, of those moments where he got to be a dad, those chances he had to make choices his father had gotten wrong. It was beautiful and painful and it was killing him. He had lost too much before he lost Jack. He had lost too much before he had even met Ben. And now his brother, who knew better than anyone how much Dean had given up, was telling him to do it again. To let go.

To lose another son.

“You do care!” Sam hollered back. “You have to! For his sake, if nothing else. How many kids do you want to bury, Dean?”

It was definitely one of the more satisfying acts of violence Dean had experienced when he smashed his fist into Sam's cheekbone.


	2. Impossibe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel tries to explain everything the best he can. But he's not really sure if he's doing it right.

It had come as no shock to Castiel when Dean laid Sam out with a single punch.

It probably shouldn't have shocked Sam either, but Cas knew they were all at lose ends after Jack's death.

Sam also didn't share a bed with Dean. He hadn't heard the broken sobs for both Jack and Ben that had filled Castiel's nights while the hunter slept beside him. The angel suspected that his lover's grief for Jack was dragging up everything that had happened so long ago between him and Lisa. Not that Dean would have ever admitted that. Cas knew that the Winchesters were not big on talking about their feelings.

But punching seemed to be a way the brothers sorted out their shit, so once the fight began he had merely rolled his eyes and teleported to Ben's side. At least he could spare this poor boy who was only confused from the stupidity of his father-figure and sort-of uncle.

In an instant, the two of them stood in Dean and Cas's bedroom, distant sounds of swearing and beatings echoing to them. “We should wait here for a little while,” Castiel explained, holding Ben steady as he adjusted to the change in locale. “We're not going to get anywhere until they get this out of their systems.”

Ben jerked away from Cas with a faintly venomous glance and turned to look around the room. Cas watched him, comparing him to Dean. He knew that Lisa Braeden was certain that Ben was not Dean's biological child, but Castiel was not so sure. It would have been well in keeping with the angels' plans if Dean had no connections in the world except his brother. Fudging a paternity test to conceal a child that might have pulled him away from hunting wouldn't even make the top 100 horrible things they had done to the Winchesters.

And Dean was all over that boy. The way he walked, the confidence in his stride and the unconscious grace of his movements. Dean Winchester was magnetic, it was impossible not to see him for the heroic warrior he was. Ben Braeden was the same. There was something deep within him that shone through and made you want to look at him, trust him, know him.

He supposed that many humans in his place might be jealous at this moment. Watching a lover's past life walk in and change everything. But Cas didn't feel that way. He loved Dean, loved him more than he had ever loved anything. It was a gift to be the one Dean Winchester woke up to each day. There was a peace in that Cas had never imagined.

Even if Ben's return was going to open the door to Lisa's return, Castiel couldn't be angry about it. How could he hate people Dean loved so much?

Ben walked to Dean's desk, running his fingers lightly over the journals and books piled there. One hand reached out to lift the sheet of paper coming out of the typewriter, his eyes scanning the words quickly before turning away. His traced the curve of the blades hung on the walls, briefly rested his palm on the worn leather of Dean's jacket. Castiel recognized his movements: there had been times when he too had paced Dean's places, touching the pieces of him, terrified of losing even one of them.

Castiel cleared his throat and Ben's eyes met his. “This looks like his room should,” Ben said at last. “He never fit in our house. Mom tried to get him to weigh in, but he never did.”

The angel nodded. “He loves this room. It was the first home that really belonged to him.” Something flickered in Ben's eyes and Cas tried to back track quickly. “I mean, a place that was just his and only his.”

The younger man looked him up and down. “It's not just his though, is it?” he asked, walking closer. “You're a little too comfortable in here for a friend that just happens to live in the same place. Trust me: I have four roommates.”

A small bit of panic rose as Ben stared Cas down. He was almost positive that the conversation about his relationship with Dean was something the hunter should be discussing with boy, not him. But he had always been a terrible liar. “No, I am not just a roommate,” he answered finally.

To his surprise, a smile spread across Ben's face, bringing a gentle warmth to his expression. “I like that you're not trying to lie about that,” he said. His voice was quiet, but Castiel could sense relief in the boy in front of him. “I guess I don't have to worry about telling him that I'm gay. That's something at least.”

Ben raised his hands to his face, pushing them back over his head the same way Dean did when he was stressed. “Do you want to tell me what's on your mind, Ben?” Castiel asked. He went over and sat in the desk chair, gesturing at the bed. “They'll be at it for a while longer, you might as well get your thoughts in order before we deal with them.”

Ben hesitated for a moment, then came over and dropped onto the bed. “So you're the one that took our memories,” he began. “How exactly did that happen?”

“I'm an angel,” Cas replied. “I don't like removing memories from humans, but sometimes we don't have a choice. Dean was certain that was the only way to protect you and your mother, so I did what he asked.”

“But you didn't agree with it.”

“No,” the angel conceded. “I did not. But it wasn't up to me, it was up to him. You were his responsibility, it was his opinion that I needed to trust in that moment.”

“Why do you think it didn't work on me?” Ben asked. “Has that ever happened before?”

Cas shook his head. “It could be something simple like latent psychic power that my touch woke up.”

Ben cocked his head. “You don't think that's what it is though, I can tell.”

The angel looked down at his hands. The moment Ben had talked about his visions, Cas had begun to suspect the cause. Being alone in the room with Ben had made him certain that he was right. “I don't believe Dean ever spoke to you about his time in Hell?” Ben shook his head, even though Cas didn't really need an answer. “I am the one who pulled him from Hell. And the one who healed his soul once he had been brought out.”

“Is that a metaphor?” Ben asked.

Cas smiled. “No, it is a fact. It was necessary to rebuild Dean's soul before he could be returned to his body. So I did.” He looked up at the boy. “I suppose after that you could say that I became his guardian angel.”

Ben returned the smile, suddenly getting why Dean had laughed earlier.

“When an angel has that kind of attachment to a human,” Castiel said carefully. “It creates a strange bond.” He chuckled suddenly. “Well, that's not really true. In all of history I don't know of anyone besides Dean and I that have found ourselves in this situation.”

“No gay angels? What a let down,” Ben joked.

Cas smiled at him. “Angels are . . . complicated in their orientations. Considering we're basically just waves of celestial intent in our normal forms, the designations of sexuality are rather pointless. The vessel is of less importance than the essence.”

“Brings a whole new meaning to 'demisexuals'.”

“Indeed.”

After a few moments of silence, Ben prodded Cas on. “But what does this have to do with me?”

Castiel took a breath he didn't need before he spoke again, weighing each word. “Dean has always been a caretaker,” he said at last. “He has been raising his brother since he was four. Part of the reason he and Sam are so profoundly tied to one another is because Dean has been the only constant person in Sam's life and Sam is the only reason Dean keeps fighting even though he knows the battle will never be over. All he has ever wanted, deep within him, is to take care of the people he loves and keep them safe. Your mother and you . . . you represented everything Dean has ever wanted and believed he would never have. If Sam had not be gone, he would have never allowed himself to be a part of your family.”

Ben nodded, though Castiel wasn't sure how much he actually understood. “Ben.” The boy met Cas's eyes. “Dean loved you and your mother very deeply. What he felt for you was real, despite everything that has come after.”

A sad smile was Ben's only reply before he gestured for Castiel to continue. “I believe,” the angel said slowly. “That when I was healing Dean, I transferred some of my grace to him. A very small amount, merely a drop of the divine. There is a link between us, some thread that allows us to know each other better than anyone else can. But in Dean, who loves so deeply and completely, I believe that this small bit of grace allows him to form these bonds with others. He sees so much more than people realize, he knows what they need in sense beyond normal human empathy.”

Cas stood and reached out to tip Ben's face up. “He has never loved anyone like he loved you, Ben,” he murmured. “You are in his mind every second of his life. He dreams of you, thinks about you, remembers you, every single day. If there was ever a person Dean would forge a bond with, it would be you. And I believe that is what happened here. The way that I can feel Dean's longing for me like a prayer, his longing for you reaches you when he doesn't realize it. I believe the grace in him has been calling out to you.”

“Why now?” Ben asked. “Why can I see him now?”

Cas hesitated again. He knew enough of humans to understand how one child could be jealous of another. No, the topic of Jack he decided, was for Dean to open. “I think they've finished arguing, Ben,” he said with a smile. “Let's go see if they need any bandages.”


	3. Too Good at Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes all you need is the chance to say all the things you wanted to say.

The Brothers Winchester had in fact finished their brawl right around the time Castiel started his awkward monologue about his relationship with Dean. It had ended with Sam holding his sleeve to his bleeding nose and Dean trying to pop his wrist around the flaring ache Sam's stupid face had settled there.

With his rage spent, Dean seemed to deflate. No matter how much he wished it otherwise, he knew Sam was right. Ben's memory had to be wiped and he had to return to his life as far away from them as possible. His heart burned at the idea of saying goodbye to Ben, but he knew there was no other option. Maybe if Rowena or Crowley had still been alive, someone that might have been strong enough to work magic that could shield Ben from Chuck's notice . . . but it was pointless. There was no one to help him protect his long-beloved son.

“It's not because of Jack,” he muttered. Sam shifted, the table groaning slightly behind him. “I wanted Ben back in my life before Jack even came into our lives. I've wanted him back since I walked away from him in that hospital.”

Sam sighed. “I know that, Dean,” he said softly. “I didn't bring up Jack because I think you're just projecting missing him onto Ben.” Sam's hand was suddenly warm on Dean's forearm. “I know that you made the only choice you thought you could make when it came to Lisa and Ben and I know that you've never forgiven yourself for it. But we can't protect him, as much as it kills me to say it.”

Tears filled Dean's eyes and he rubbed them away roughly. “I don't want to say goodbye again, Sammy,” he whispered.

When Cas and Ben came into the library, Sam had pulled Dean into a rough hug, both of them still kneeling on the polished wood floor in the wreckage of two broken chairs and displaced books. It took all of Cas's self control not to run immediately to Dean and pull him into an embrace. He knew there would be time for that once the Ben Issue had been decided.

Sensing their audience, the brothers broke apart and stood, each clearing their throats. Dean forced a sad smile in Ben's direction and came to his side. “Let's eat something and talk this out,” he said, clapping the young man on the shoulder. “I can't think without coffee.”

An hour later, pancakes and bacon in ruins on the table between them, silence fell. It swelled around the four of them, punctuated by quick glances as everyone tried not to be the first one to speak.

Ben finally let out a small cough and broke the tension. “You're not going to let me stay, are you?” he asked quietly, looking across the table at Dean.

The hunter took a shaky breath before meeting Ben's dark eyes. “I'm sorry, Ben,” he answered. “But it's just not safe for you here.”

Ben bit his lip. “What if I just leave and come back once the danger has passed?” he asked.

Dean shook his head. “It's not that kind of danger, son. It's not like the stories I told you, where I go out and kill the monster and everything goes back to normal. This is so much bigger than that.”

“Then train me, let me help,” Ben insisted. “I want to, let me help you so that we can-” He cut off his thoughts, but everyone at the table heard the silent finish: be a family again.  
Dean looked at Castiel, his green eyes almost pleading. The angel could see everything in Dean's mind, the chaos of longing and broken hope and desperate almost-forgotten dreams. All of the shame the hunter felt for abandoning the wife and son that might have fulfilled a wish he had never dared speak aloud. Cas could also see how close Dean was to throwing away everything he had left just to have a little more time to indulge in that fantasy. The seeds of Cas's own destruction were sown across Dean's thoughts and the angel felt powerless to say anything against it in the face of the naked need that poured from Dean's soul.

Then Dean blinked and the thoughts quieted, his eyes traced Cas's face and then turned back to Ben. “Ben, I love you,” Dean said, his voice calm. “I love you and I love your mom and I regret the fact that I left you both like I did. But I can't go back, I can change the choice I made that day.” He reached out and took Ben's hand. “And I wouldn't, even if I could.”

Ben recoiled, his eyes haunted.

Dean kept speaking, not breaking eye contact. “I see you sitting in front of me: healthy, grown, just as smart and amazing as I always knew you would be. If I had stayed, you wouldn't be this person in front of me.”

“You don't know me-” Ben snapped.

“You're right, I don't know you the way that I would have if I had watched you grow up,” he agreed. “But I know more about you than you think. I know that you starred in every Shakespeare play they did at your high school. I know that your favorite role was Hamlet. I know that you're still dating David, the first boy you ever kissed, and that he loves sharing pictures of you online and telling everyone how lucky he feels to have you. I know that you got a scholarship to the Chicago Art Institute by delivering 'Stairway to Heaven' in iambic pentameter. I know that you spend every weekend with your mom and that she has never missed a single show you've been in. I know that you have a favorite sweatshirt that you insist in wearing for every single publicity shoot you do for any sort of play or appearance.”

Tears were running down Ben's face as he listened to Dean list out all of the things he shouldn't have known. “You watched,” he whispered at last.

“I have stalked your entire life,” Dean said, a half-smile quirking his lips. “I finally found a use for the internet besides porn.” His smile faded. “When you turned eighteen, I thought about reaching out to you. Coming to see you and trying to find a place in your life. But I have been abandoned by a father when I needed him most. I know all to well what it feels like to lose the person that you should be able to count on and how it almost hurts worse when they come back to you once you've gotten used to them being gone.” A shadow passed over his face. “I couldn't do that you, Ben. I couldn't be that person that just wandered back one day like they had never done anything wrong.”

Ben took a wet breath, blinking away tears. “I don't want to leave again.” He stared at Dean for a long moment before turning away, trying to stem the flow of tears with his palms.

Dean jerked his head at Sam and Cas. They stood and left the room. Once the sound of their footsteps had faded, Dean stood and came over to sit on the bench next to Ben. He gave him a minute to collect himself and then spoke softly: “Do you remember what I told you when I left?” he asked.

Ben sniffed loudly. “You said that just because you love someone doesn't mean you stick around and screw up their life.”

“Your answer to me then was that I was a liar for telling you that family came first, that I was running out on my family,” Dean replied. “You were right, that was exactly what I was doing. I knew it then, I knew it even more when I had Cas wipe your memories. I never forgot the anger in your eyes when you said that to me, and how incredibly proud of you I was for the fact that you dared say it to me. It took me decades to get the stones to talk to my father like that. I thought about it all the time, what a strong kid your mom had raised that you were willing to call someone on their bullshit.”

“But you didn't stay,” Ben said. His voice was raw, Dean could feel the edge of it like a blade across his skin.

Ben stood, shoving his body away from the table with more energy than was necessary. Dean watched his angry steps as the young man paced the room. He waited, knowing the signs of someone reaching their boiling point.

“YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING BASTARD!” Ben screamed, whirling to face Dean. “How fucking dare you sit here, telling me how much you watched me, how you just skulked around the edges of my life. Like any of that means SHIT to me! Like you were showing your love by being fucking gone! Like any of that carries any weight at all!”

Dean kept his face impassive, letting Ben rage.

“My mom cried herself to sleep for MONTHS! MONTHS of her sobbing in the dark and I couldn't do anything about it because neither of us knew why we were so goddamned sad! It took years before she dated again and she never let anyone come even close to being a part of our family after you. There were days she couldn't even look at me, days when all she did was cling to me and apologize for the fact that I didn't have a dad. You have no idea what you did to us, what you broke in us! And you're out here, fucking that dude, getting drunk with your brother, doing whatever the hell it is that you do like one little brain eraser somehow saved us.”

He advanced on Dean, standing directly in front of him with his fists clenched and his face twisted with something that was almost hate. “YOU KILLED US!” he shrieked. “You killed our family! You destroyed everything, we were never the same, never! You think I give a flying fuck that you're proud of me, that you like who I grew up to be? How dare you, how goddamned dare you sit here and act like my life was better because you split.”

Dean stood slowly, suddenly far too aware of every single one of his forty-one years. He wasn't prepared when Ben slammed his palms forward, hitting the hunter in the chest and pushing him back.

“I spent all this time dreaming about you, about this dad I almost had. This guy who taught me to work on cars and made me mixed tapes of classic rock and did everything he could to keep me safe. But I had to believe he wasn't real, I had to keep missing this person that I thought I had 'made-up'. I had to wonder what you would have thought about everything that happened because even though I believed that I made you up, you were real to me.”

Ben's next words hit Dean harder than any blow ever had.

“I fucking hate you. I hate you so much. I wish you'd never come to us.”

Silence fell and Dean just looked at Ben, taking in every detail he could. The curl of hair at his temples, same as the ones he had when his hair grew too long. The tense set of his shoulders that mirrored Sam's stance when he was angry. The delicate lines of his face: Lisa's eyes and cheekbones, his own jaw. The burly height of him, so different from the slender lines of his mother. The freckles, barely visible under his tan, only showing because of the angry white of his skin. The hands with their long fingers, fingers of an artist or a musician. The coiled way he stood, always poised for action.

The burning pain in his dark eyes. How terribly young he looked with his eyes red from crying.

His son. His son who had never known that Dean was his father, who would never know because Dean himself had realized it far too late for it to matter. Another angry Winchester that would start a fight in an empty house because the agony inside him was too heavy to carry.

But there was a softness in Ben that Dean knew had never existed in him. Under all that rage was sadness, but instead of staying angry, Ben had just loved everyone he could as much as possible. Social media had served up so many pictures of Ben's smile, of his arms around his mother, his hands careful on his boyfriend's face. Everything that Dean had been forced to harden in himself was still gentle in Ben. Despite life's best efforts, this boy had grown into a man that was so good that it took Dean's breath away.

He saw Jack in Ben. The innocence that so defined Jack was there in Ben, that belief in a better world, in the people around him. Dean didn't doubt that Ben hated him in this moment, but he knew enough of hate to realize that it came with a side of love. He had to know that, because he had hated Jack enough to want him dead and stopped short of the killshot because the love was so much stronger.

He had failed them, both of his sons. He hadn't protected Ben, he should have checked back, made sure that the break between them had been clean. He hadn't be truthful enough with Jack, hadn't done enough to keep him from burning through his soul. He had spent so much time keeping Sam as safe as possible, but he hadn't learned from those mistakes. He had just made them again and again, never getting better. Failing them all to varying degrees. He had lost Jack, see Chuck burn the life from him and then allowed his body to be befouled by a demon rather than give him the burning he deserved. He had left Ben alone, the only one his mother could count on when demons had destroyed her life.

He had taken it out on Cas, pushing the angel away as if Jack was his fault. But underneath it all was just his own shame, his own failure. His own inability to keep the people he loved safe. There was a part of him that was so tempted to repeat the mistakes again. He could see it: going home with Ben, telling Lisa the truth, spending the last days of his life with them pretending that nothing had changed. He could imagine a scenario where his presence brought him back to Lisa, where they could be a family until Chuck killed the world. It was a seductive idea: being able to spend time with at least one of his sons before everything ended.

Then Castiel's face exploded in his mind. For a moment he could feel the angel's wing wrapped around him. The ghostly warmth of his hand caressed Dean's back. He saw Cas kneeling next to Jack's body, pain like wounds on his familiar face. He heard the angel crying quietly in the night when he thought Dean was sleeping, remembered standing in the corridor watching as Cas sobbed into Jack's pillow, crushing it to his chest like it was the only thing keeping him anchored.

And Sam. Sam's face trying to hide the pain after Aileen left, the way his soul had fracture in his eyes when Chuck had them in the casino. The way his little brother had lost so much weight and slipped into the shadows of his mind as Chuck had tortured them through this all. The way his little brother had grieved for Rowena in ways he didn't know how to explain.

“If hating me is what you need to do,” Dean said quietly. “Then do it. Do what you need to do to survive this, Ben.” He stepped closer, not quite daring to touch him yet. “Because I can't fix this. I wish I could. I wish I could give you the answer you want. I wish that this time I could stay with you. I wish I could step in and be the guardian angel you thought I was for all of these years. But I can't, Ben. I can't give you what we both want.”

Ben sobbed and turned away.

“I wish I could,” Dean continued, his voice breaking. “I wish I could be your dad, that I didn't have to say goodbye again. But I can't, I can't do that. But at least this time, I can fail you in the open. This time you can say everything you need to say. I won't make you leave until you've told me everything you want to tell me. That's all I can offer, that's all I have left to offer you. That and the promise that this time it will be forever. I'll make sure that this time it's forever, I swear to you Ben.”

There was a moment where everything was quiet except Ben's quiet gasps as he tried to stop crying. Dean waiting, feeling something in him dying a little more each moment. This was all he had, just this last chance to see Ben the way he needed to be seen. This moment where at least one person he loved could say everything they needed to say.

Ben whirled suddenly, landing a haymaker on Dean's cheek before the hunter could tell what was happening. Then came the tears and the babble of words, all punctuated by ever weakening hits. When Ben spent his rage and collapsed against Dean's chest, he held him, silent as Ben poured out everything he had to say. About the things Dean had missed, the changes in Ben's life that he had wanted a father to talk him through. His arms were tight around Ben as he told him about his graduations, about coming out, about his fears that he wasn't as good as everyone thought he was. He listened as Ben clutched his shirt and told him how much he wanted to propose to his boyfriend, how afraid he was that David would say no. He held him as Ben cried about his inability to know if his mother would be okay. He held him as he sobbed out all the years of wishing Dean would come back when he knew that Dean never would.

He was still holding him when Castiel came back into the room.

“I wish things were different,” Ben whispered against Dean's chest, spent and sounding on the verge of sleep.

Dean's arms tightened around him. “So do I,” he whispered in Ben's ear. “More than you can ever know.”

“Can you promise I won't remember this time?” Ben asked, his voice younger than Dean had ever heard it. Like a small child asking a parent to reassure them that the monsters under the bed weren't real.

“I promise,” Dean whispered, clutching Ben against him like he was about to disappear. “I promise, Ben. It will be over for good this time.”

“I miss you,” Ben murmured as Cas stepped up behind him, raising his hands to Ben's temples.

“I love you.” Dean whispered.

He closed his eyes as Cas's grace blazed around them, his fingertips gentle on Ben's skin as the memories disappeared. Dean felt it this time, the snap of something inside him that forever severed him from his son. When Castiel gentle unwound his arms and took Ben from him, tears were falling fast down Dean's cheeks.

Ben looked like he was sleeping. A smile curved his lips and his breathing was deep and even. Castiel's eyes were filled with compassion as they looked at Dean. “I'll take him home,” the angel said softly. “I'll make sure no one remembers that he was gone and that nothing of us is left in his mind.”

Dean nodded once, not trusting himself to speak. He looked at the floor as Cas carried Ben out of the room. There was a cracked tile in the kitchen floor, something he should fix. How could such basic things constantly escape his notice? Why couldn't he just keep his shit together long enough to keep his house in order?

When Sam put his hand on Dean's shoulder, he collapsed. In an instant, Dean was sobbing: his face on the floor, tears ripping their way out of him as he looked at the cracked tile, as he felt Ben's warmth disappearing from his arms, as Castiel got further and further away. As everything collapsed around him.

Sam pulled his brother against his chest, letting him cry, staring at nothing as his own tears gathered but did not fall.

As it always was, the brothers clung to each other. There was nothing else in their lives that was safe. So Sam held his brother and would continue to hold him until they were all that was left in the dying world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I was pretty surprised that this was the story that expanded in my mind. I have a really hard time believing that Ben isn't Dean's biological son. I feel like angels are just dicks enough to find a way to keep that from him.
> 
> Anyway. I cried writing this lol. Hopefully no one hated it.

**Author's Note:**

> Part Two will be posted today or tomorrow. There ended up being more here than I originally thought there would be :D


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